


Worse Than Numb

by flashforeward



Category: King Falls AM (Podcast)
Genre: Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-12
Updated: 2018-04-12
Packaged: 2019-04-21 23:06:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14295423
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flashforeward/pseuds/flashforeward
Summary: Sammy isn't holding together well.





	Worse Than Numb

**Author's Note:**

> set sometime after episode 66 - something to talk about, but before episode 68 - the best imitation of myself. Title is from Hanson's "Use Me Up"

He's drunk is the first thing Ron notes when he opens the door to find Sammy Stevens on his porch. It's late and Sammy _should_ be at the station with Ben but clearly he isn't. Instead he's practically falling through Ron's front door, crowding Ron back up against a wall and pressing their bodies together. His breath is hot on Ron's neck, his whole body shakes under Ron's hands.

"You okay there, Sammy?" Ron asks. He knows the answer, heard Lily Wright on the show a few nights back, knows there's _something_ going on with Sammy and he's far from all right. But the words slip out anyway, ineffectual and useless as they are, and the half-broken laugh Sammy gives in response chills Ron to the bone.

"I'm not drunk enough, Begley," Sammy says, his voice hoarse. He presses his lips against Ron's throat, trailing kisses down along his collar bone. Ron catches Sammy's wrists and pushes him back - not hard, but Sammy _is_ drunk enough and he stumbles back, his eyes wide, expression hurt. "What the fuck, Ron?"

"You're definitely too drunk for any of that," Ron says. He reaches out, ready to steer Sammy into the kitchen for a hot cup of coffee and a long chat, but Sammy pulls away, reeling backwards into the hall table and sending the miscellanea that makes its home there clattering to the floor. "Sammy," Ron tries again, but Sammy just shakes his head and pushes himself towards the door.

When he speaks again, his voice is a choked and quiet thing. "I'm sorry. I just wanted," he swallows hard, pressing his forehead against the door and trying to steady himself. "I just want to feel something, Ron."

Ron cautiously comes up behind Sammy, setting a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I hear ya, Sammy, but this ain't the way to go about it." He squeezes Sammy's shoulder and tugs him around, pulling him into a hug. "Come on, let's get some coffee in you and have a conversation, all right?"

Sammy's in no shape to get himself home - Ron's a little scared to find out how he got to the lake in the first place - so Ron leads him into the kitchen and gets him settled on one of the stools at the counter. In no time, the cozy room smells of brewing coffee and Ron has set out an array of scones and tea cakes for them to snack on.

"Now, why don't you tell me what this is all about," Ron says, setting a steaming mug in front of Sammy. Sammy doesn't drink at first, just sits and breathes in the scent of the coffee, eyes closed and head tipped back ever so slightly. Ron's heart clenches at how exhausted he looks, but he keeps his mouth shut and waits.

Sammy's gotta do this in his own time, in his own way, or he'll never do it at all.

"I miss him, Ron," Sammy says to the mug cupped in his hands. His voice cracks and he takes a sip of coffee, returns the mug to the counter with a soft _thunk_ , raises his head, meets Ron's gaze and tries again. "I miss him so much." It's a whisper, but in the quiet of the kitchen it feels like a shout.

"Jack?" Ron asks.

Sammy lets out a strangled sound that tears at Ron's heart and his head tips forward. He presses his palms against his eyes, his whole body shaking as he finally, _finally_ , lays his burden bare. "Yeah," he chokes out, hiccuping around another sob. "Yeah, Jack." He forces a laugh and looks up again, trying to brush the tears aside, trying to look calm and cool and collected. Trying to be a Sammy Stevens who's never really existed. Trying to keep that mask in place.

But Ron's already seen behind it, can spot the cracks from across the room.

"I'm sorry," he says. It's ineffectual. Trite. Useless. He steps forward, reaches across the counter. He doesn't touch Sammy, but he leaves his hand there, palm up, in case Sammy needs it.

Sammy doesn't look at him, doesn't meet his gaze, keeps his own fixed on a point somewhere behind Ron. He wraps his hands around the coffee mug again, holding onto it like its a lifeline. When he speaks again, his voice is hoarse and choked. "I'm not sure I can do this anymore."

"Sammy," Ron starts, but Sammy shakes his head and Ron holds back. Waits.

Sammy pulls in a breath, lets it out slowly. "He deserved better than me," he says. "I was." Stops, swallows hard. "I _am_ a coward, Ron. I couldn't. I couldn't love him the way he deserved. I couldn't be. I couldn't be real, not even for him." He's crying now, his voice cracking and choking, face wet. He takes a sip of coffee, clears his throat. "He should have left me sooner. Maybe then-"

"You didn't do this," Ron says. He reaches just a little further, wraps his hands around Sammy's on the mug. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"I pushed him away!" Sammy snaps, pulling back. Coffee sloshes over the rim of the cup, splashing over their fingers and onto the counter as Sammy pushes the mug and Ron away. Stands up, pulls back from the counter and stands, head bowed and hands clenched at his sides. "I couldn't be what he needed me to be and he," he swallows against a sob but it comes out anyway. "I wasn't. I couldn't be good enough for him. And I pushed him away and he." His voice catches, but he pushes through. "He couldn't come to me. He couldn't ask me for help and he. He's gone."

"You didn't do this," Ron says again. He rounds the counter, approaches Sammy slowly, wraps his arms around him and holds him. "You didn't cause this. None of this is your fault."

Sammy sobs into Ron's shoulder. "If I'd just. If I could have been better, maybe he. Maybe he wouldn't have had to do it all alone. And then maybe-"

"Maybe you'd be missing with him and there'd be nobody to find you," Ron cuts him off. He pulls back slightly, looking into Sammy's eyes. "You dropped everything you knew and came out here to find him. That's love, Sammy."

"I can't-" 

Ron cuts him off with another hug, holding him tight. "That's love, Sammy," he says again.

Sammy's body shakes with sobs and Ron just holds him, supports him. There's no quick fix for this, no magic word to make everything better. All he can do is make sure Sammy knows he's _there_. No matter what.


End file.
